


Warnings

by susies_fandom_wonders



Series: Under the Mask [12]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Blood, Gen, Implied Sexual Assault, Wounds, a later part for the utm world, how des and hersh escape targent, implied physical assault, jay is a godsend, utm au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susies_fandom_wonders/pseuds/susies_fandom_wonders
Summary: Des is warned about what will happen if he and Professor Layton stay in Targent any longer. Des finds a way to escape.





	Warnings

Desmond paced around his cell again, paying no mind to the pain lacing up his leg as he limped from one side of the small cement room to the other. His hair, thrown into a messy bun, came apart in lose strands over his face. His outfit – the spare change of clothing that nurse, Owl, had given him – was splotched with dried blood, both from the bullet wounds and the electrocution he was forced to experience. His head pounded with a headache, and he listened to the soft clicks of boots from outside his little cell, to the soft cries of other prisoners.

He knew now that the cries weren’t Hershel. From how he’d mentally mapped out the place, the professor’s cell was farther down from his own – and if he hadn’t changed after all those years, Hershel was always quiet with his emotions.

The soft clicks grew louder, and the guards outside his cell began to stir. Des paused in his pacing to stare at the door. The sound of keys jangled, and then the heavy door was pushed open. An agent walked through the door, hoisting the – Des froze, his breath catching in his throat, as the agent looked at him sadly before placing Professor Layton on the floor. The professor groaned as he was placed on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” the agent whispered as Desmond knelt down on the ground, looking down into Hershel’s glazed eyes, hands fretting over the professor’s bruised face, eyes catching the finger marks on the other’s neck. Des glanced back up at the agent. He shifted, uncomfortable, before he whispered again, eyes flitting and no doubt knowing about the hidden camera in the corner of the room. “Sparrow… went pretty rough on him a few hours ago. He refused to get up of his own volition. Can’t blame the poor man. He’s probably in horrible pain.”

Des felt his blood turn cold. “What did he do?”

The agent bit his lip. “I’d rather not say.” He looked around again, nervous, body impossibly still. “There isn’t much time before Sparrow gets here, and I doubt he’ll last much longer if you two remain.” The agent looked back down at Des, and his eyes were impossibly blue – Des was reminded of Nate’s eyes. “You need to get out of here.”

“How?” Des hissed back, looking back down at Hersh’s body, trying to find any more obvious wounds on his younger brother’s body.

“I don’t know.” He muttered. “All I know is that if you don’t get him out now, there’ll be another nameless dead body out in the sand.”

A shudder passed through Des’s body at the implication. He grit his teeth. “Why warn me?”

The agent worried his lip again. “I’m not an agent that wants to hurt you to get what we want. That’s the Boss’s ideals – and seeing this professor in pain is too much to bear.” Boots clicked against the floor outside the cell – the agent’s eyes flashed with an emotion Des couldn’t place. “I would help more. I’m sorry I can’t. Please, Professor – get out when you have the chance.” The agent stepped to the side as Sparrow came through the door, hands clasped behind his back. Sparrow looked from Desmond, to Layton, who had shot up and grasped his head the moment he’d walked in – then, he looked back at the other agent, who still hadn’t left the room. They locked gazes for a moment; then, the blue-eyed agent looked away.

“You can leave now, Jay.”

“Of course.” Bowing his head, Jay left the room quickly, pulling the door closed behind him – Desmond noticed that the door didn’t click.

It was unlocked.

Sparrow looked back at the two professors on the ground. Desmond quickly stood up as he grew near. Layton trembled on the floor, eyes flashing in fear – Des couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen someone look so terrified – as Sparrow yanked him to his feet. Desmond began to move forward as he heard Layton give out a shaky, quiet groan, lips pulling back into a grimace as he struggled to pull himself away from the agent, who had pressed up to the Professor’s back, an arm slung across his torso. Layton’s hat – God knows how he’d managed to put it on his head – tilted forwards. Sparrow’s lips were turning up into a smug grin as the professor in his arms began to jerk his head, body thrashing weakly.

“Your friend appears to be reaching his limit,” Sparrow remarked as Layton began to cry, breath hitching, and Des could hear his teeth grinding together. “I’m sure if you were to just give us what we want, he won’t get hurt anymore.”

“I don’t know any more than you do!” Des’s voice rose, and he desperately hoped his voice didn’t convey anything other than anger. Sparrow just hummed, free hand moving and wiping away a tear from Hershel’s face in a mock show of tenderness. Layton’s body shuddered violently, eyes shooting open wide and suddenly looking much more lucid than he was before, teeth chattering.

“Shame, Professor….” Desmond felt as if the world was coming to a stop as Sparrow’s hand began to tilt Hershel’s head towards his. “You don’t mind, though. Right, sweetheart?”

Desmond lunged forwards, knocking both Sparrow and Hershel to the ground. The red-eyed man mumbled a quick apology to the other professor before he pushed him off of Sparrow, fumbling for a bit before he felt the familiar grip of a handgun on the agent’s belt. Yanking it free, Desmond knocked Sparrow in the head with the butt of the gun as he began to struggle. Jumping to his feet after Sparrow went slack underneath him, Des strode over to Layton, helping him to his feet.

“Can you walk?” He asked quickly. Layton was trembling and swaying on his feet, as if he didn’t understand the question fully. He was staring at Sparrow’s fallen body. Desmond turned his head, eyes meeting. “Layton, answer me. We’re getting out of here – we don’t have much time before he wakes up. _Can you walk_?”

“….”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake –” Desmond moved quickly, hoisting Layton over his shoulder and feeling the bullet wound on his shoulder stretch and send a sharp streak of pain through him. “We don’t have time for this – just hold on to your hat, alright, Layton? I’ll get us out of here.”


End file.
